Ran across the following on another forum...thought it worth posting on this one.


What is a Veteran?

Some Veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in the eye.

Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in the refinery of adversity.

Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem.

You can't tell a Vet just by looking.

They are the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel.

They are the barroom loud-mouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.

They are the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

They are the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back AT ALL.

They are the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.

They are the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.

They are the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.

They are the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.

They are the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a N**i death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come.

They are an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being - a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.

They are a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known.

So, remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say "thank you". That's all most people need, and in most cases, it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.

Two little words that mean a lot, "Thank you".

"It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier, who salutes the f**g, who serves beneath the f**g, and whose coffin is draped by the f**g, who allows the protestor to burn the f**g."

-- Father Denis Edward O'Brien/USMC

Moldy, yours reminded me of the following...a re-post from years back on this Forum, in it's entirety...

I ran across this while visiting the Viet Nam Memorial at Angel Fire, New Mexico, many years ago. The memorial was built by the efforts of a Father whose Son was lost in the War. It was his way of paying tribute to his Son, who fought alongside a good friend of mine. The following was left there by a visiting Veteran...unknown. With Memorial Day approaching, I felt compelled to post it, remembering that Viet Nam was a war fought, primarily, by teenagers. A recent post directed to Viet Nam Veterans prompted me to recall it, but I did not want to hijack that thread.

I am posting it just as it appeared at the Memorial.

'LOSS OF INNOCENCE'

We were children.
Patriotic, brave children.
Innocent of Honor.

All too soon,
We were forced to grow up,
To face danger and bloodshed.
Terrors, real and imagined,
Waited there in the dark.
But, grimly determined,
We stood our ground,
Though the reason got lost
In the fight.

And we were proud!
Then we came home....
Some of us whole and some of us not,
And no one cared.

Al these years we've stumbled along,
Bewildered and lost, remembering,
And lonely...
Scorned, ridiculed and ignored,
For something out of control.

And now we're men...
Hardened and inside ourselves.
But it's not too late,
Won't you try and understand?
We were just children.

Ran across the following on another forum...thought it worth posting on this one.


What is a Veteran?

Some Veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a jagged scar, a certain look in the eye.

Others may carry the evidence inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the leg - or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in the refinery of adversity.

Except in parades, however, the men and women who have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem.

You can't tell a Vet just by looking.

They are the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run out of fuel.

They are the barroom loud-mouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.

They are the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

They are the POW who went away one person and came back another - or didn't come back AT ALL.

They are the Quantico drill instructor who has never seen combat - but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.

They are the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals with a prosthetic hand.

They are the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass him by.

They are the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with them on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.

They are the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket - palsied now and aggravatingly slow - who helped liberate a N**i death camp and who wishes all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the nightmares come.

They are an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being - a person who offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his country, and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice theirs.

They are a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the finest, greatest nation ever known.

So, remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just lean over and say "thank you". That's all most people need, and in most cases, it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or were awarded.

Two little words that mean a lot, "Thank you".

"It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier, who salutes the f**g, who serves beneath the f**g, and whose coffin is draped by the f**g, who allows the protestor to burn the f**g."

-- Father Denis Edward O'Brien/USMC

A poem from my late brother, an Army vet.

The Plight Of America's Finest
Rating: ★5.0
♡



The Soldier, a forgiving soul.
The substance of an ancient mold.
Though over worked and under paid,
their loyalty remains unscathed.
The Army, the Navy, the Air Force, the Marines,
a few proud men and women, being all that they can be.
Whether on our home-front or abroad
they serve to heed our nation's call.

The military cares for its own,
or so we've been taught to believe.
When they find that they no longer need you
then, you'll find that you've been deceived.
You've performed as you were ordered,
some put their lives on the line.
Our Congress enjoys an increase in pay.
but for yours, there's no funds, there's no time.

Her saving are gone. His home is lost.
You're dying from some unknown cause.
The Military Doctors, they can't find a thing.
Their diagnosis, "You're malingering".
You need not look too far to see
a Veteran living in poverty.
You've done what you were asked to do.
What will our leaders do for you?

Some soldiers return home to face
an added problem, one of race.
Some families live in constant fear.
their neighbors, they don't want them here.
One buys a home and settles down,
bigots want to burn his house to the ground.
Our countrymen, they fight side by side
to make other nations free,
only to return to the prejudices of our own society.

Its time we showed appreciation
to those defending our great nation.
Heads of state should make provisions
to give our soldiers due recognition.
The freedom that we all enjoy.
we owe to those that we've deployed.
On land, in the skies, on the Ocean too.
Our Soldiers protect THE RED, WHITE AND BLUE.
Woodrow W. Edwards, Jr. Thursday, January 2, 2003

Moldy, yours reminded me of the following...a re-post from years back on this Forum, in it's entirety...

I ran across this while visiting the Viet Nam Memorial at Angel Fire, New Mexico, many years ago. The memorial was built by the efforts of a Father whose Son was lost in the War. It was his way of paying tribute to his Son, who fought alongside a good friend of mine. The following was left there by a visiting Veteran...unknown. With Memorial Day approaching, I felt compelled to post it, remembering that Viet Nam was a war fought, primarily, by teenagers. A recent post directed to Viet Nam Veterans prompted me to recall it, but I did not want to hijack that thread.

I am posting it just as it appeared at the Memorial.

'LOSS OF INNOCENCE'

We were children.
Patriotic, brave children.
Innocent of Honor.

All too soon,
We were forced to grow up,
To face danger and bloodshed.
Terrors, real and imagined,
Waited there in the dark.
But, grimly determined,
We stood our ground,
Though the reason got lost
In the fight.

And we were proud!
Then we came home....
Some of us whole and some of us not,
And no one cared.

Al these years we've stumbled along,
Bewildered and lost, remembering,
And lonely...
Scorned, ridiculed and ignored,
For something out of control.

And now we're men...
Hardened and inside ourselves.
But it's not too late,
Won't you try and understand?
We were just children.